CHAPTER IV
THE SHADOW OF THE ENGLISHMEN
Now I will pass on to the time when Ralph was nineteen or thereabouts,and save for the lack of hair upon his face, a man grown, since in ourclimate young people ripen quickly in body if not in mind. I tellof that year with shame and sorrow, for it was then that Jan and Icommitted a great sin, for which afterwards we were punished heavilyenough.
At the beginning of winter Jan trekked to the nearest dorp, some fiftymiles away, with a waggon load of mealies and of buckskins which he andRalph had shot, purposing to sell them and to attend the Nachtmahl, orFeast of the Lord's Supper. I was somewhat ailing just then and did notaccompany him, nor did Suzanne, who stayed to nurse me, or Ralph, whowas left to look after us both.
Fourteen days later Jan returned, and from his face I saw at once thatsomething had gone wrong.
"What is it, husband?" I asked. "Did not the mealies sell well?"
"Yes, yes, they sold well," he answered, "for that fool of an Englishstorekeeper bought them and the hides together for more than theirvalue."
"Are the Kaffirs going to rise again, then?"
"No, they are quiet for the present, though the accursed missionaries ofthe London Society are doing their best to stir them up," and he made asign to me to cease from asking questions, nor did I say any more tillwe had gone to bed and everybody else in the house was asleep.
"Now," I said, "tell me your bad news, for bad news you have had."
"Wife," he answered, "it is this. In the dorp yonder I met a man whohad come from Port Elizabeth. He told me that there at the port were twoEnglishmen, who had recently arrived, a Scotch lord, and a lawyer withred hair. When the Englishmen heard that he was from this part of thecountry they fell into talk with him, saying that they came upon astrange errand. It seems that when the great ship was wrecked upon thiscoast ten years ago there was lost in her a certain little boy who,if he had lived, would to-day have been a very rich noble in Scotland.Wife, you may know who that little boy was without my telling you hisname."
I nodded and turned cold all over my body, for I could guess what wascoming.
"Now for a long while those who were interested in him supposed thatthis lad was certainly dead with all the others on board that ship, buta year or more ago, how I know not, a rumour reached them that one malechild who answered to his description had been saved alive and adoptedby some boers living in the Transkei. By this time the property and thetitle that should be his had descended to a cousin of the child's, butthis relation being a just man determined before he took them to cometo Africa and find out the truth for himself, and there he is at PortElizabeth, or rather by this time he is on his road to our place.Therefore it would seem that the day is at hand when we shall see thelast of Ralph."
"Never!" I said, "he is a son to us and more than a son, and I will notgive him up."
"Then they will take him, wife. Yes, even if he does not wish it, for heis a minor and they are armed with authority."
"Oh!" I cried, "it would break my heart, and, Jan, there is anotherheart that would break also," and I pointed towards the chamber whereSuzanne slept.
He nodded, for none could live with them and not know that this youthand maiden loved each other dearly.
"It would break your heart," he answered, "and her heart; yes, and myown would be none the better for the wrench; yet how can we turn thisevil from our door?"
"Jan," I said, "the winter is at hand; it is time that you and Ralphshould take the cattle to the bush-veldt yonder, where they will liewarm and grow fat, for so large a herd cannot be trusted to the Kaffirs.Had you not better start to-morrow? If these English meddlers shouldcome here I will talk with them. Did Suzanne save the boy for them? Didwe rear him for them, although he was English? Think how you will feelwhen he has crossed the ridge yonder for the last time, you who aresonless, and you must go about your tasks alone, must ride alone andhunt alone, and, if need be, fight alone, except for his memory. Think,Jan, think."
"Do not tempt me, woman," he whispered back in a hoarse voice, forRalph and he were more to each other than any father and son that I haveknown, since they were also the dearest of friends. "Do not tempt me,"he went on; "the lad must himself be told of this, and he must judge;he is young, but among us at nineteen a youth is a burgher grown, with aright to take up land and marry. He must be told, I say, and at once."
"It is good," I said, "let him judge;" but in the wickedness of my heartI made up my mind that I would find means to help his judgment, for thethought of losing him filled me with blind terror, and all that night Ilay awake thinking out the matter.
Early in the morning I rose and went to the _stoep_, where I foundSuzanne drinking coffee and singing a little song that Ralph had taughther. I can see her now as she stood in her pretty tight-fitting dress,a flower wet with dew in her girdle, swinging her _kapje_ by its stringswhile the first rays of the sun glistened on the waves of her brown andsilk-like hair. She was near eighteen then, and so beautiful that myheart beat with pride at her loveliness, for never in my long life haveI seen a girl of any nation who could compare with my daughter Suzannein looks. Many women are sweet to behold in this way or in that; butSuzanne was beautiful every way, yes, and at all ages of her life; as achild, as a maiden, as a matron and as a woman drawing near to eld, shewas always beautiful if, like that of the different seasons, her beautyvaried. In shape she was straight and tall and rounded, light-footed asa buck, delicate in limb, wide-breasted and slender-necked. Her face wasrich in hue as a kloof lily, and her eyes--ah! no antelope ever hadeyes darker, tenderer, or more appealing than were the eyes of Suzanne.Moreover, she was sweet of nature, ready of wit and good-hearted--yes,even for the Kaffirs she had a smile.
"You are up betimes, Suzanne," I said when I had looked at her a little.
"Yes, mother; I rose to make Ralph his coffee, he does not like that theKaffir women should boil it for him."
"You mean that you do not like it," I answered, for I knew that Ralphthought little of who made the coffee that he drank, or if he did it wasmine that he held to be the best, and not Suzanne's, who in those dayswas a careless girl, thinking less of household matters than she shouldhave done.
"Did Swart Piet come here yesterday?" I asked. "I thought that I saw hishorse as I walked back from the sea."
"Yes, he came."
"What for?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "Oh! mother, why do you ask me? You knowwell that he is always troubling me, bringing me presents of flowers,and asking me to _opsit_ with him and what not."
"Then you don't want to _opsit_ with him?"
"The candle would be short that I should burn with Swart Piet," answeredSuzanne, stamping her foot; "he is an evil man, full of dark words andways, and I fear him, for I think that since his father's death he hasbecome worse, and the most of the company he keeps is with those Kaffirwitch-doctors."
"Ah! like father, like son. The mantle of Elijah has fallen upon Elisha,but inside out. Well, it is what I expected, for sin and wizardry wereborn in his blood. Had you any words with him?"
"Yes, some. I would not listen to his sweet talk, so he grew angry andbegan to threaten; but just then Ralph came back and he went away, forhe is afraid of Ralph."
"Where has Ralph gone so early?" I asked, changing the subject.
"To the far cattle-kraal to look after the oxen which the Kaffirbargained to break into the yoke. They are choosing them this morning."
"So. He makes a good Boer for one of English blood, does he not? And yetI suppose that when he becomes English again he will soon forget that hewas ever a Boer."
"When he becomes English again, mother! What do you mean by thatsaying?" she asked quickly.
"I mean that like will to like, and blood to blood; also that there maybe a nest far away which this bird that we have caged should fill."
"A nest far away, mother? Then there is one here which would be leftempty; in your heart and father's, I mean;" and dropping her sun-bonnet
she turned pale and pressed her hands upon her own, adding, "Oh! speakstraight words to me. What do you mean by these hints?"
"I mean, Suzanne, that it is not well for any of us to let our love wrapitself too closely about a stranger. Ralph is an Englishman, not a Boer.He names me mother and your father, father; and you he names sister, butto us he is neither son nor brother. Well, a day may come when he learnsto understand this, when he learns to understand also that he has otherkindred, true kindred far away across the sea; and if those birds call,who will keep him in the strange nest?"
"Ah!" she echoed, all dismayed, "who will keep him then?"
"I do not know," I answered; "not a foster father or mother. But Iforgot. Say, did he take his rifle with him to the kraal?"
"Surely, I saw it in his hand."
"Then, daughter, if you will, get on a horse, and if you can find Ralph,tell him that I shall be very glad if he can shoot a small buck andbring it back with him, as I need fresh meat."
"May I stay with him while he shoots the buck, mother?"
"Yes, if you are not in his way and do not stop too long."
Then, without more words, Suzanne left me, and presently I saw hercantering across the veldt upon her grey mare that Ralph had broken forher, and wondered if she would find him and what luck he would have withthe hunt that day.
Now it seems that Suzanne found Ralph and gave him my message, and thatthey started together to look for buck on the strip of land which liesbetween the seashore and the foot of the hills, where sometimes theblesbok and springbok used to feed in thousands. But on this day therewere none to be seen, for the dry grass had already been burnt off, sothat there was nothing for them to eat.
"If mother is to get her meat to-day," said Ralph at length, "I thinkthat we must try the hill side for a duiker or a bush-buck."
So they turned inland and rode towards that very kloof where yearsbefore Suzanne had discovered the shipwrecked boy. At the mouth of thiskloof was a patch of marshy ground, where the reeds still stood thick,since being full of sap they had resisted the fire.
"That is a good place for a riet-buck," said Ralph, "if only one couldbeat him out of it, for the reeds are too tall to see to shoot in them."
"It can be managed," answered Suzanne. "Do you go and stand in the neckof the kloof while I ride through the reeds towards you."
"You might get bogged," he said doubtfully.
"No, no, brother; after all this drought the pan is nothing more thanspongy, and if I should get into a soft spot I will call out."
To this plan Ralph at length agreed, and having ridden round the pan,which was not more than fifty yards across, he dismounted from his horseand hid himself behind a bush in the neck of the kloof. Then Suzannerode in among the reeds, shouting and singing, and beating them with hersjambock in order to disturb anything that might be hidden there. Norwas her trouble in vain, for suddenly, with a shrill whistle of alarm bythe sound of which this kind of antelope may be known even in the dark,up sprang two riet-buck and dashed away towards the neck of the kloof,looking large as donkeys and red as lions as they vanished into thethick cover. So close were they to Suzanne that her mare took fright andreared; but the girl was the best horsewoman in those parts, andkept her seat, calling the while to Ralph to make ready for the buck.Presently she heard a shot, and having quieted the mare, rode out of thereeds and galloped round the dry pan to find Ralph looking foolish withno riet-buck in sight.
"Have you missed them?" she asked.
"No, not so bad as that, for they passed within ten yards of me, butthe old gun hung fire. I suppose that the powder in the pan was a littledamp, and instead of hitting the buck in front I caught him somewherebehind. He fell down, but has gone on again, so we must follow him, forI don't think that he will get very far."
Accordingly, when Ralph had reloaded his gun, which took some time--forin those days we had scarcely anything but flintlocks--yes, it was withweapons like these that a handful of us beat the hosts of Dingaan andMoselikatse--they started to follow the blood spoor up the kloof, whichwas not difficult, as the animal had bled much. Near to the top of thekloof the trail led them through a thick clump of mimosas, and there inthe dell beyond they found the riet-buck lying dead. Riding to it theydismounted and examined it.
"Poor beast," said Suzanne; "look how the tears have run down its face.Well, I am glad that it is dead and done with," and she sighed andturned away, for Suzanne was a silly and tender-hearted girl whonever could understand that the animals--yes, and the heathen Kaffirs,too--were given to us by the Lord for our use and comfort.
Presently she started and said, "Ralph, do you remember this place?"
He glanced round and shook his head, for he was wondering whether hewould be able to lift the buck on to the horse without asking Suzanne tohelp him.
"Look again," she said; "look at that flat stone and the mimosa treelying on its side near it."
Ralph dropped the leg of the buck and obeyed her, for he would always doas Suzanne bade him, and this time it was his turn to start.
"Almighty!" he said, "I remember now. It was here that you found me,Suzanne, after I was shipwrecked, and the tigers stared at us throughthe boughs of that fallen tree," and he shivered a little, for the sightof the spot brought back to his heart some of the old terrors which hadhaunted his childhood.
"Yes, Ralph, it was here that I found you. I heard the sound of yourvoice as you knelt praying on this stone, and I followed it. God heardthat prayer, Ralph."
"And sent an angel to save me in the shape of a little maid," heanswered; adding, "Don't blush so red, dear, for it is true that eversince that day, whenever I think of angels, I think of you; and wheneverI think of you I think of angels, which shows that you and the angelsmust be close together."
"Which shows that you are a wicked and silly lad to talk thus to a Boergirl," she answered, turning away with a smile on her lips and tears inher eyes, for his words had pleased her mind and touched her heart.
He looked at her, and she seemed so sweet and beautiful as she stoodthus, smiling and weeping together as the sun shines through summerrain, that, so he told me afterwards, something stirred in his breast,something soft and strong and new, which caused him to feel as though ofa sudden he had left his boyhood behind him and become a man, aye, andas though this fresh-faced manhood sought but one thing more from Heavento make it perfect, the living love of the fair maiden who until thishour had been his sister in heart though not in blood.
"Suzanne," he said in a changed voice, "the horses are tired; let themrest, and let us sit upon this stone and talk a little, for though wehave never visited it for many years the place is lucky for you and mesince it was here that our lives first came together."
Now although Suzanne knew that the horses were not tired she did notthink it needful to say him nay.